


oh, fuck, are you (okay?)

by peterandhispirate



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, First Kiss, Fuckboy!Tyler, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, ah yes i love hell lmao, nerd!josh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 16:44:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7765450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterandhispirate/pseuds/peterandhispirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All great romances start with hitting someone in the face with a door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	oh, fuck, are you (okay?)

**Author's Note:**

> @ me: why are you like this lmao,,

Josh really didn't want to go to prison for manslaughter.

But it's not like it had been his fault- the guy just happened to waltz in front of the door right when he had been coming out. That was it. It's not like he had purposely slammed it into him with murderous intentions or something.

Then again, as soon as he knelt down beside the fallen victim squeaking "oh, fuck, are you okay?" and actually saw who it was, he didn't feel quite as guilty.

Because this was Tyler Joseph. You know, the guy who probably owned fifty pairs of Nike's and was the captain of the basketball team and, might I add, pushed Josh around on a regular basis.

Not really that great of a guy, is the bottom line; as far as Josh was concerned, he had it coming to him for awhile now. Four years, to be exact- Joseph had been badgering him nonstop since the first day of freshman year.

Seriously. The guy ran a Josh Dun Hate Club or something, because he just never quit: whether it was the trumpet or hair or clothes or soft stomach or nervousness, he always had something to get on Josh's back about. _Always_.

And, of course, when Tyler Joseph does something, his goons immediately follow suit. Which means not only was he being torn apart by the basketball captain, but the entire basketball _team_ as well. Every. Single. Day.

So now you know why he was thinking about just leaving Tyler there to suffer in the middle of the hallway. The guy had tons of friends; one of them was bound to see him laying on the floor and pick him up, right?

Then again, he didn't want to take any chances and be responsible for the death of the most worshipped asshole in the school. Something told him that that would make him even more unpopular than he already was. And also a potential target for murder.

A dazed mumble drew him from his disappointed thoughts and caused him to seek out its source, which was, of course, a bloody-nosed Tyler Joseph splayed out on the floor. Forever the center of all his problems.

"What the hell, man?" were the only words he could really make out. They were also pretty understandable. Getting hit in the face with a door probably makes you a little bitter. It also makes you slur your words and look half-dead, apparently. Who knew?

Obviously, his first (and reluctant) step was getting Tyler to the nurse. But judging by the asshole's rather dazed state, he'd definitely have to carry him. In his arms. He was going to carry _Tyler Joseph_ , a dumbass who regularly reminded Josh how much he sucked and was stupid enough to walk in front of an opening door, in his arms to the nurse's office.

God, he deserved some kind of medal for this.

Gathering up a furiously mumbling Tyler so he could carry him bridal-style down multiple hallways, he murmured a quiet "shut the hell up" before starting in the direction of the clinic; the basketball captain went limp in his arms, head lolling as he continued to groan out a variety of complaints.

By that point, Josh was thinking about just finishing the douchebag off himself. But he had never been one for violence, so his only option was to grin and bear it. Fantastic.

Every person that passed by was immediately giving him weird looks, eyeing the dazed boy in his arms like he was from another planet. 

(He even heard one boy snicker "look, Dun's got himself a boyfriend" and nearly gagged. Because there was no way in blue hell that would happen, _ever_.)

Rounding one last corner, he felt relief wash over him when he saw the door to the nurse's office, but then the moment was ruined (as usual) by Tyler's hazy mumbling, ultimately reminding Josh who he was bringing there in the first place.

Swerving sharply into the clinic so he could finally get rid of the grumbling, bloody-faced mess, he came to a stop beside the nurse's desk and stammered, "I, um- I need some help here."

Looking up from her computer with a smile, she began saying "what's up?" before she saw a half-conscious Tyler Joseph in his arms and answered that question for herself.

Instantly scrambling out of her chair, she dragged Josh to the back of the room and told him to lay Tyler down on one of the beds.  Seeing that he wanted this to be over soon, he obeyed, setting the boy down (albeit gently) and stepping back as soon as the nurse rushed forward to make sure the little fucker was still alive.

(He was. How unfortunate for all of us.)

As she felt his bloodied nose to make sure it wasn't broken and shined a flashlight in his eyes, she began firing off questions for whom caused all of this: "What the hell happened?"

"Well, I- it's kinda- I might've hit him in the face. With a door." Running a hand nervously through his dark hair, he confirmed, "Yeah. I hit him in the face with a door."

She looked up at him with raised brows from where she was kneeling beside the bed; after a long moment, she said slowly, "Any particular reason?"

"Um. He just sorta... walked in front of it? I didn't even see him," Josh added quickly when she narrowed her eyes. God, was he going to get punished for this? It wasn't his fault that Joseph had the IQ of a box of rocks. "I _swear_ I didn't see him."

"I believe you," she murmured a stressfully long moment later, turning back to Tyler as he gradually came to his senses and letting Josh sigh in relief; then she ripped away his comfort a moment later when she said, "But you're still going to walk him back to class."

Nearly choking on his own spit, he stared at her like she was from another planet and didn't hesitate to voice his disbelief: "Wait, _what?_ Why? It's not like he's paralyzed from the waist down or something-"

"No, but you did hit him in the face. With a _door_. So you kinda owe him."

_I don't owe the little asshole_ shit, Josh thought bitterly as said asshole stirred to life, blinking dazedly with a grumbled "what the hell happened?"

The nurse looked up expectantly at the source of their problem; letting out a long breath, he mumbled weakly, "I might've, um, hit you in the face with a door. Accidentally."

"You _what?_ " Tyler was struggling to sit up at that point, and Josh nervously stepped back in fear that he'd lunge out and beat him black and blue. "What the hell's your problem, Dun?!"

"Didn't you hear me? I said _accidentally_ ," Josh desperately clarified again; apparently that wasn't good enough for Tyler, because he still looked ready to return the favor by smashing his face against a door. Repeatedly. Until he was dead.

"I heard you loud and clear, but that doesn't make me want to kick your ass any less. You could've broken my nose you clumsy bastard!"

"If only," Josh muttered a little too loudly, proceeding to scramble back with a yelp of terror when a beyond pissed Tyler began rising to his feet. Fortunately, the nurse was there to grab his arm and shove him back down: "That's enough you two. Unless you both want to get suspended, I suggest you stop before this gets physical."

That last part was obviously directed at Tyler, who continued to glare daggers at Josh that probably hurt more than an actual punch anyway.

"Good." Sighing a sigh that suggested she didn't get paid enough to deal with teenage boys and their bullshit, the nurse pointed at the dark-haired mess and grunted, "You. Take him back to class. _Now_."

"You're going to leave me alone with him?!" Josh spluttered, nervously eyeing the suspiciously/suddenly satisfied-looking basketball captain. "He'll kill me!"

"No, he won't." Leaving her place beside the bed, she returned to her desk and sat down with an airy "he'd get kicked off the basketball team."

Tyler's face suggested that his thoughts mirrored something like _not if nobody found the body_.

Naturally, Josh was more than a little concerned, glancing wildly from the smirking Joseph to the nurse- the latter had turned all of her attention back to her computer again, so he was on his own.

Great.

With a weary sigh of defeat, he beckoned to Tyler and mumbled, "Come on, then."

Rising from the edge of the bed a little too eagerly, Joseph (clearly back to his usual cocky self) sauntered across the room and shouldered past him out the door.

With a nervous intake of breath, Josh followed.

As soon as they were alone in the hallway, there were hands at the collar of his NASA t-shirt, pinning him against the wall like your typical high school cliché.

"I bet you hit me with that door on purpose, you chubby gay freakshow," Tyler was growling in his face, grip tightening as Josh squirmed frantically to get away. "We both know you're not man enough to actually beat me up. That's the difference between us, I think- besides the fact that you're a fucking homo who has more Pokémon cards than friends. Am I right?"

"I told you, it was an _accident_ ," Josh insisted desperately, each syllable drenched in fear as he stared pleadingly at him, eyes round with horror. He _knew_ this would happen. "If it was on purpose, why would I bother bringing you to the nurse? Wouldn't I just leave you there? Ever thought about _that?_ "

There was a long, terror-inducing pause. And then,

"I don't need you to walk me back to class, Dun."

The hands at his collar were gone, retreating so he could sink to the floor with a small squeak of relief; Tyler stared down at him for a startlingly brief moment, the expression on his face somewhere between "I want to kick your sorry ass" and "holy shit I'm sorry." 

Oddly enough, it was leaning more towards the second one, which is why Josh was left to ogle curiously after him as he stalked down the hallway.

 

Josh would be lying if he said he didn't feel a little bit guilty.

Don't get him wrong: he knew better than anyone that Tyler was a dick. Like, a _massive_ dick. Not only that, but he was the goddamn leader of a whole group of dicks like himself (also known as the basketball team.)

So why in blue hell did he feel bad about slamming a door in his face? Even when it hadn't been his fault?

(Okay, so maybe he had been the one who opened the door in the first place, but it was Tyler who blindly walked out in front of it. So as far as Josh was concerned, they were both equally at fault here. And that was fine with him.)

But the weirdest part about all this was that Tyler was being oddly distant in the sense that he was no longer badgering him as harshly or frequently as he normally did. Even when his teammates tried to make up for all the lost insults, Tyler always seemed to have an excuse that would reel them back in: "Don't waste your time on Dun." "Guys, come look at this video on my phone." "If you keep getting in his face, you're gonna get AIDS. Get over here."

Et cetera, et cetera.

Pretty confusing, is the bottom line, even for someone as smart as Josh. It didn't make any _sense_. Why the sudden chivalry? Why the random eye-contact from across the room that would make Tyler sharply look away?

To be quite honest, it was giving him a whiplash.

Speaking of things giving him whiplashes: perhaps the most puzzling thing of all was Tyler Robert Joseph, the guy who probably ran a Josh Dun Hate Club, asking him for help on geometry homework.

And then openly looking impressed when Josh explained it to him.

And then proceeding to thank him for his help.

(Just _maybe_ Josh said "you're welcome," but you definitely didn't hear it from me.)

The door in his face must've knocked a few screws loose, because never, in his entire life, had Josh imagined that Tyler Joseph, of _all_ people, would tolerate him- let alone be nice. 

Ring the alarm, sound the bugle, hell is freezing over as we speak.

And now that Josh was desperate for answers and paying closer attention, he began to notice little things that he hadn't before: how Tyler's bottom teeth were crooked in the best way, how tufts of his dark hair stuck up in some places, how - believe it or not - he actually _did_ say sorry when he accidentally bumped into people.

Okay, so maybe the guy wasn't a _complete_ dick. Maybe.

And by maybe I mean definitely; the proof was in how quickly he had reacted when Josh stumbled in the hallway with a strangled yelp, trumpet case leaving his hand and falling open as soon as it hit the floor, spilling all of its contents across the tile.

No one else really bothered helping him as he kneeled down, trying to gather everything up with frantic hands and red cheeks. They either chuckled or pointed or just smirked and kept on walking, only to say things like "what a dumbass" when they thought they were out of earshot.

_Thought_ is the key word here, because Josh caught every single word, every single snort and chuckle. Which is why he blinked back hot, helpless tears while struggling to pick everything up, dropping some of it again because of how bad his hands were trembling.

That's when, out of the corner of one tear-blurred eye, he saw someone else crouch down beside him and begin to place things back in the fallen case. Their fingers were steadier than his as they asked, "Are you okay?"

He sniffled with a small nod, mumbling a blubbery "thank you" when Tyler promptly closed the case and handed it to him. 

"No problem, man. You sure you're fine?" Dark eyes peered doubtfully at his pink face as he rubbed at damp cheeks with the back of one shaky hand, nodding again. 

"Yeah. 'm good."

"Okay then." Rising from his knees off of the tile floor, he offered his hand to Josh a moment later; it was gratefully accepted after a few seconds of staring and sniffling, and the dark-haired mess was tugged to his feet.

"Next time, don't trip on thin air," Tyler snorted dryly, but it didn't have the usual bitterness that made Josh want to burn every pair of Nike's that he owned. Which was a _lot_ of pairs, by the way.

"Noted," Josh mumbled shyly, blinking back the last of his remaining tears. "Thanks, by the way. I think."

The basketball captain arched a brow. "You _think?_ "

"Well, for all I know, you just slipped a bomb in my case or something. Or spider eggs or... I dunno. Something to get back at me for- for the door thing."

Tyler was smiling, sort of wistful, making his face go from pink to red. "That happened three and a half weeks ago. You still thinking about it?"

"You sort of threatened to kill me because of that, so yeah, I guess so..?" Josh trailed off helplessly, causing Tyler to divert his eyes to the floor. "I guess I still feel sorta guilty, too."

"Yeah, well, that makes two of us," came the soft reply.

And Josh had to stop and just stare, because he'd never seen someone so vulnerable, so full of regret that it was fresh and bleeding on his face, like an open wound.

But then the soul-crushing regret was balanced out by a sugary smile as Tyler added, "Nice Star Trek t-shirt, by the way. Looks good on you."

And with that he gave a little nod and a little grin and walked away with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his varsity jacket.

Josh nearly dropped his trumpet case again.

 

"So are you coming to the basketball game tomorrow?"

That was the first thing Tyler said when he sat down next to Josh, who nearly choked on the sandwich he was eating. It was also Tyler who rubbed gentle circles on his back until the coughing subsided.

"Thanks," Josh croaked before taking a moment to mentally analyze each syllable that had just been spoken to him:

_so are you coming to the basketball game tomorrow?_

Sorry? Come again?

Tyler waited patiently for a reply, both eyebrows raised as Josh sat there in stunned silence, unblinking with his lips parted ever-so-slightly. Like those nine words had shoved his train of thought off of its tracks entirely, and now it was tipped over and on fire.

"Josh..? You still on Earth?"

No. He was millions of miles away by now, floating around in space with the rocks and dust and planets. _That's_ where he was.

Somehow he found it in himself to at least briefly tether himself back to the troposphere, because with a slow intake of breath he murmured, "Could you repeat the question?"

Tyler did, making sure to heavily enunciate each and every word: " _Are. You. Coming. To. The. Basketball. Game. Tomorrow?_ "

And just like that, Josh was in space again. Which is ironic, because he talked about space with Tyler all the time. The best part was that unlike his parents, he never heard the words "can you be quiet for half a second?" or saw an eye-roll so exaggerated that he shut right up.

(Fun fact: Tyler had gone home and memorized over a hundred cheesy space jokes just so he could see the soul-healing smile on Josh's face after each one.)

"Are you sure your teammates would, um- would be okay with that?" Josh murmured slowly; if it wasn't for the small matter of everyone on the basketball team (besides Tyler, of course) hating every fiber of his being, he would've said yes instantly. But it wasn't that easy.

"With what? You being there?" When the dark-haired boy nodded, messy curls bouncing, Tyler just snorted and waved a hand. "If they do, they can take it up with me and have their asses kicked. You're cooler than all of them combined, anyway."

How many times did Josh have to become an astronaut in the span of seven minutes?

"So will I see you there?" Tyler continued hopefully, putting his big round puppy-dog eyes to work. Josh was done for. "C'mon, J. Please?"

"Okay, okay, I'll go," eventually came the grumbled response; Tyler's face lit up like a Christmas tree, and it took Josh a moment to realize that this was the same face he had hit with a door four weeks ago.

"Knew you wouldn't say no," the basketball captain announced breezily, adding with a grin a moment later, "Tomorrow at five, okay? I'll be looking for you in the stands, Dun."

"And I'll be looking for you on the court," Josh replied with a shy smile of his own, fiddling coyly with the hem of his alien t-shirt. "Y'better win, Joseph."

"Well, with you there, that shouldn't be a problem." 

If those nine words didn't turn his face the most glorious shade of pink, the bright smile that followed them surely did.

 

And now you know how Josh ended up in the bleachers at five p.m. with no clue how basketball even _worked_ but a warmth bubbling in his stomach for one of the players.

(He was also wearing Tyler's favorite shirt of his - the NASA one that smelled and seemed and overall felt the most like _Josh-_ like dark, messy hair and bubbly laughs and shy, pink-faced smiles. Everything that Tyler dreamed about at night.)

And it's definitely worth noting that though a few of the other basketball players had passed by Josh and made eye-contact, not one of them confronted him. They either nodded or just ignored him altogether and moved along.

Which was fine with him.

Something else that was fine with him was how Tyler eagerly waved and grinned directly at him when he first jogged onto the court; the twinkle in his eyes could be seen from a mile away, and Josh never thought he was capable of making someone else that _happy_ just by showing up.

A few other people in the stands followed Tyler's smile to where Josh was sitting, flustered and ducking his face shyly when they smirked at him- not cruelly, but knowingly.

A man sitting close to him even leaned over and murmured, "Number three your boyfriend?"

"I, um- I think so?" he spluttered quietly, face going from pink to red. "I mean- I _hope_ so."

"Trust me, kid, I know smitten when I see it," the guy huffed, leaning back again with a soft chuckle. "And you and number three over there are _smitten_."

It was only when the game finally started and he was watching Tyler twist and dart and dance around the court that Josh realized he was right. Because he had no idea what was going on - sports just really weren't his territory - and yet his eyes were glued to Tyler the entire time.

They were about forty minutes in when Tyler's team began lagging behind a little bit; with five minutes left, people were getting concerned. Especially Josh, who knew enough to recognize struggling when he saw it.

That was when Tyler briefly made eye-contact with him, sweat plastering his short hair against his skull and face flushed from all the movement. He was exhausted, that much was clear- but that one moment where their eyes met and Josh smiled an encouraging smile seemed to send a surge of energy into his sore muscles.

Because then Tyler was dancing around the court just as nimbly as he had at the very beginning of the game: ducking and dodging and dribbling the ball with sure hands.

It was those same hands that crafted the perfect winning shot. Tyler's eyes were locked on the hoop as he let go of the ball, watching it sail through the air and come down through the netting, hardly touching the rim.

There was a lot of screaming after that, and Josh would be lying if he said he didn't contribute a fair bit of yelling himself.

As soon as Tyler's teammates had finished swarming him and slapping him enthusiastically on the back - _"Way to go, dude!"_ \- all of his attention belonged to Josh.

He bolted up those bleachers (nearly tripping once or twice) and hardly gave the other boy a chance to stand to meet him before his arms were wrapped around shoulders and he was mumbling into Josh's neck: "See? I told you we would win if you were here. You're my good luck charm, you know that?"

Josh hugged him back with his eyes blissfully shut, taking in the warmth and safety of Tyler's arms around him; not even caring that he was panting and sweaty and hardly making any sense.

He also didn't care that when they kissed, it was messy and wet and sort of desperate. Because it couldn't be more perfect to them.

And then Tyler was mumbling "so glad you came, J" against his honeyed mouth, and he smiled when he replied,

"Yeah. Me too."

**Author's Note:**

> if you say "nerd!josh and fuckboy!tyler" i will come crawling out of hell with my 10,000 headcanons and force you to listen to every single one lmao,, i have a problem :'')


End file.
